


Of Monarchs And Men

by coulsons-hawk (allyoop)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Awesome Howling Commandos, Bar Room Brawl, Bathroom Sex, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Blow Jobs, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky and Steve will be the main ship, Developing Relationship, Family Secrets, First Time, Flashbacks, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Homophobia, Kidnapping, Kings TV Show, M/M, Mash-up, Not Canon Compliant, Partying, Political Animals TV Show, Secrets, Steve and Peggy Friendship, Things are not as they seem, alternative universe, political shenanigans and developing mysteries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2019-10-03 10:20:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17282231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyoop/pseuds/coulsons-hawk
Summary: If there was a documentary about his life it might be called "Sex, Love, and Lies" or "Troublemaker: The Prince James Story". But when Bucky met Steve Rogers, the great war hero, both of their lives began to change.A Stucky AU mash-up; featuring Marvel, Kings (TV), and a dash of Political Animals.NOTE: more tags will be added as the story progresses.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Like many good ideas this began on a fateful night in a faraway house, with a stack of all of Sebastian Stan's filmography, and a good friend for company.
> 
> This series has a soundtrack that you may find here: https://8tracks.com/gingersnapstan/of-monarchs-and-men
> 
> Eternal thanks to my beta reader for constant support for my wild ideas. I'm sorry this took so long to finally post.

**Prologue**

 

 

It made Steve’s blood boil to hear his commanding officer’s words. _“I don’t want to see anybody trying to be a hero; none of us can win a battle against those tanks. We can’t risk all our troops just to rescue a few. It’s a hard truth, but they understood what they were signing up for in this war.”_

He stifled down his opinions in front of Colonel Phillips, but the words ricocheted in his head over and over, growing with heat until he knew what he had to do.

Steve snuck off after nightfall, a rocket launcher strapped to his back and the bare beginnings of a plan in his head.

 

The neutral zone between the two fronts was a sorry excuse for a forest, but it still offered him cover. Steve ducked between the wiry trees, keeping low in the shadows as he caught his breath between sprints.

There they stood: imposing giants on the landscape, a sore spot of gleaming metal against what used to be lush green. But these tanks were not built for blending into landscapes: the Goliaths carved new ones in their path. They were mountains on wheels, each with a volcano of a canon at the ready. There were only two of the hulking Goliaths before him, towering over their smaller brethren, but two was all that was needed against an army of flesh and bone.

Steve balled his hands into fists, his resolve hardening. They had brought giants to a fistfight. History had taught him that these soldiers fought dirty; experience taught him that they didn’t care about wartime rules. This was an enemy that stole secrets, gassed neutral towns, and didn’t believe in keeping prisoners alive. He knew he had only a little time left before they played their usual games.

Edging closer through the last line of trees before the scorched edge of camp, he paused to observe. This late at night there were only two relaxed sentries chatting near the tanks. There was no fence, as the Goliaths were wall enough. Beyond the tanks the lights of the encampment were dim with only a few tents still seemingly awake. Steve didn’t know everything about these strangers, but he knew _people_. People tend to get sloppier with confidence, and nothing raises confidence like knowing you brought the biggest gun to the fight.

Timing the lazy sweeps of light from the sentry towers, he darted to the nearest tank in between arcs, hugging against its hull to stay in the shadow. He quickly deemed it unnecessary. The largest structure near him was brightly lit amongst the surrounding crop of grey tents and the noises of enjoyment carried loudly across the air. The officers were having a party. Steve guessed they were celebrating their prisoner haul of the day. Out of habit he ran his hands over the location of his launcher, his sidearm, and the knife tucked in its holster against his body.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the rage that coiled his muscles into a spring. These bullies deserved to be punched, but he wasn’t here to deliver revenge. This was a stealth mission, hidden from both sides. If Steve failed he would be captured and killed by one side, or shunned with dishonor from the other.

He turned his head ever so slightly around the corner of the tank and was relieved to see no sentries posted outside the tents. But not everyone could be gathered together at the celebration. He darted between structures, avoiding any lights or stray eyes, working his way systematically through the camp. Further back he found was he was looking for. Another tent was lit up, a beacon in the dark that set his pulse racing.

There was an acrid smoke in the air but thankfully it was from the cigars, not guns, that dangled from the officer’s fingers as they chatted outside the tent. Steve’s mind raced as he calculated his options, then he threw those quickly out as he saw his chance. The officers laughed raucously about something before parting ways, one officer walking off and the other stepping back inside. Steve sped forward while their backs were turned and snuck a boot toe in the tent flap, keeping it open by an immeasurable sliver. There were two uniformed men tied to chairs at the center of the tent: the hostages. Even from this distance he could read the slack posture and the bloodstained clothes. He paused, hopeful…

One hostage starting coughing, his chest heaving against the tight rope bonds. The other one leaned his head towards the sound. They were both alive. Steve’s decision was made.

He pulled the flap open an inch more. Luck was still with him; the guard was facing away from the door. Steve stepped quietly behind him, pulling the man into a chokehold vice. The guard went down silently, passed out but not dead. Steve didn’t know how much time he would have and rushed to inspect the hostages.

One had a crude bandage swathed around his head and eyes, red staining through the cloth. The other man had a purple mottled face, but he was alert and staring at Steve with suspicion. Steve knelt down beside him, pointing at his uniform. The hostage looked relieved to see that he and Steve wore the same colors.

"Can you walk?" Steve whispered as he cut the ropes on the man.  
The hostage nodded, but pointed over to the other. "He banged his head real bad; he'll need help."  
Steve moved towards the other hostage, bent low and whispered "My name is Steve Rogers from the 107th. I'm here to get you out."  
A huge smile bloomed beneath those bandages and the man attempted to sit up, but quickly sank back into his chair. Steve slid an arm around his waist and helped him to his feet. “What’s your name, soldier?”

“I’m James.” He was grinning but his voice was slurred and his limbs shaky.

Steve turned back to other man. “Does he have a last name?”

“Not sure; he only woke up recently.” He stood to help Steve with the unsteady man between them. “I’m Sam Sawyer. How are we-?”

"Camp is to the west. If we stay along the tree line we should get back fine."  
They slipped out of the tent as softly as possible, grateful that their enemy provided their own celebratory distraction. They retraced Steve’s path as quickly as they could with the injuries between them, pausing tensely in the shadows every time there was a crackle of noise. Steve was grateful to see the first few trees approaching and the dark safety of the forest. He halted suddenly, eyes glancing backwards. The bandaged hostage tugged on Steve's arm, lips pressed together in worry, unable to see why they stopped. Sawyer began to speak but Steve cut him off.  
"Take him back." Steve helped the bandaged man lean against his fellow soldier.

"Where're you going?" Sawyer whispered back.  
Steve looked over his shoulder at the huge mammoth of a tank at the front of the lines, growling deep as someone woke up her insides. That sound was everyone’s worst fear. "There's something I gotta do first."

  
As he stared at the not-so-distant barrel of the Goliath, an idea had struck him. Steve gestured for the two men to continue forward without him and then he waited until he could no longer pick out their bodies amongst the trees. With one steadying deep breath, Steve strode out into the field, the beginnings of the morning sun lighting up his silhouette for anyone to see. He reached for the launcher on his back and he half-grinned. It was reckless as hell but it just might work.

 

 

 

 

 

 **Chapter One**. Many weeks later…

 

   
It had been a whirlwind few weeks. When Steve had rushed into the enemy camp to save those men, he had only hoped for a successful rescue. But the man he had saved, bandages now removed and scar healing nicely, had been the Crown Prince. After a rushed debriefing from his superior officer, he was sent away from the war zone with only an explanation that ‘ _the king awaited him’_. What he had discovered after the helicopter landed was a grateful royal family, a new adoring public, and a million camera flashes in his eyes. They gave him a room in the palace and an open-ended invitation to stay. Steve had mentally promised himself to leave once this bizarre hubbub had died down, but each day seemed to bring new interest in ‘ _The Hero Who Faced the Goliath and Won’_. The King greeted him warmly each time they met and Steve couldn’t bring himself to turn down such a royal welcome, not when there was nothing but an empty house or a return to the warfront awaiting him when he left.

So before he knew it days rolled into weeks. The press conferences were fewer now, and Steve found himself with more time to wander his temporary new home. He discovered the palace was just a building, a spectacularly dressed one, but it was still just inanimate walls surrounding objects that sparkled and shined. As much as he lingered in front of the art with appreciation, he found his interest most sparked by the people within. The King was kind but distant, the Queen had always been just a portrait and a beloved memory, and the two royal children could not be more different. The Prince was a constant surprise, but his sister Peggy was easier to understand. Not that Steve would ever get used to how beautiful she was up close, more so than pictures he’d seen in newspapers. Thankfully she and Steve seemed to have more in common and conversation between them came easier. Steve had spent most of his first few weeks tagging along beside her, trying not to stumble on his words too much, and letting Peggy be his tour guide in the capital city.

He hadn’t actually seen much of James up close. Much like those blurry paparazzi photos he always seemed to feature in, Steve had only caught glances of the Prince as they passed in the hallways. There were a few rare overlapping moments when James arrived late for a meal and Steve left early. Those minutes always left Steve with quite an impression. The Prince was always full of charm and smiles, switching between jokes and flirtation with ease, always the center of attention when he joined the group. It made Steve wonder why he had such a reputation for being ‘ _darkly troubled storm cloud’_ as one end-of-aisle magazine had colorfully declared. He only ever seemed to smile.

 

But things were changing. That afternoon Steve was surprised in the hallway with a glossy gold envelope, handed to him upon a silver tray. It was a formal invitation to the royal ballet, a fundraiser event with raffled seats to benefit arts education. There was a note, in the King’s hand as he was learning, written across the envelope. ‘ _Breakfast is at 7 am everyday. I’d like this family to restart an old routine_ ’. Steve wasn’t quite sure what to make of the ‘family’ part, wondering if he was included in that word or if it was referring to The Family.

Re-reading the invitation details, he smiled. Steve knew Peggy was attending the ballet and, as far as he knew, was still without a date.

There was a knock at his door. Putting the invitation on his pillow so he wouldn’t forget, he opened the door. One of the palace attendants, decked in the identifiable crisp white blazer with the royal insignia on the breast pocket, inclined his head in greeting.

“The Crown Prince requests your presence in the portrait salon.”

Thanking the attendant, Steve closed the door and wandered half-heartedly to his closet wondering what he should wear. He has never met Bucky in this manner, by personal request. It wasn’t a mealtime nor was there was a meeting on his agenda. Steve pulled on a slightly nicer pair of jeans and hoped for the best.

 

The Prince looked anything but. James greeted Steve from where he lounged in the armchair, with an air of relaxed power and a whispered promise of debauchery. There was a glint to his eyes that seemed at odds with the stiff ancestral portraits that lent the room its name. The war didn’t seem to have touched him, despite the faintest scar across his forehead and brow. His dark hair framed smooth skin and a pink mouth tugged sideways in a smirk as he gave Steve a lingering once-over. A blush started to rise in Steve’s cheeks under the long gaze. If he was honest with himself, both the royal siblings had caught his attention, but where Peggy was friendly and accessible, James had remained a captivating mystery.

“I, uh…” Steve was unsure of how to address him. Peggy had quickly corrected Steve to just call her ‘Peggy’, but he had never spoken to the Prince alone like this. “You wished to meet me here, Your Highness?” Steve cringed at the stilted words.

James grinned over his glass of something dark and expensive looking. “Your suits are awful, Steve.” He rose from the chair and approached Steve, trailing a light hand across his shoulders.

“My suits?”

“Or just the one, I assume. You wore it at the press conferences but you can’t wear it to the ballet. It really doesn’t fit you.”

“Well since joining the army I’ve gotten a bit...” Steve was aware it was too small now, but he never really had much occasion to wear it or a desire to replace it. The last time he wore it had been his mother’s funeral just before he had joined up.

“We need to get something that fits you, the _new_ you.” The hand unoccupied by his glass was grasping Steve’s muscled bicep as if to prove his point.

A blush rose in Steve’s cheeks. James was standing much too close and his hand felt much too warm. “I haven’t had time to shop. Things around here have kept me pretty busy.”

James shrugged, clearly untroubled. “Let’s go see my tailor. And-” He winked at Steve. “You can call me Bucky”.

Leaving the glass on a table Steve was sure was probably a two-hundred-year-old antique, the Prince guided them towards the door. His hand lingered on Steve’s back, a gesture Steve wasn’t quite sure what to do with.

James was grinning the whole stroll through the palace. A plan had begun to form: he knew how he could knock this so-called great hero down a few pegs, even if he had to do the knocking himself.

 

After a detour to the kitchen where Bucky snagged a bottle of whiskey ‘ _for later’_ , they ran into Peggy in the hallway. Steve waved, happy to see her. He had been hoping for an opportunity to ask her to accompany him to the ballet. She brushed past him without a word, heels clicking like a cold echo in the hallway. His heart sank. Just as he thought he was getting a hang of the royal life in which he was suddenly intertwined, something seemed to have changed for the worse.

Bucky watched as Steve stared after her with his brows knit in confusion. He slung an arm over Steve’s shoulder.

“You’re not shiny anymore.”  
Steve shrugged him off. “What does that mean?”

“Peggy likes causes, always has. You were new and needed a friend and a guide. But you don’t anymore.”

Something in his tone made Steve glare back at him. “Did you say something to her?”

Bucky laughed. “I couldn’t make Peggy do anything even if I begged. My sister is pretty strong-willed, as I’m sure you know.” Bucky replaced his arm across Steve’s shoulder. “There’s been some headlines recently.”

“So?” As remarkable as it was, it wasn’t anything new to see _STEVE ROGERS: OUR NEW HERO!_ emblazoned in bold font.

“A certain type of headline about you and the Princess.”

Steve flushed. “We aren’t-“

“I know, I know. I’m just guessing someone in my father’s council may have suggested she return to her campaign for healthcare reform and not flirting with you in the hallways.”

He couldn’t help but sigh. “Was I that obvious?”

“It’s okay, I’m not judging. _Much_.” Bucky grinned. “Peggy’s a bit cliché for you, isn’t she? Newly returned war hero gets it on with the Princess…”

“Hey-!“ Steve’s cheeks felt overheated.

“You’re boring.” Bucky raised a hand before Steve could protest further. “Or at least you’re acting boring. You just got home from the shitty never-ending war with our neighbors, the keys to the kingdom are practically slapping you in the face, and all you’ve done is hide in the manor chasing the skirt of someone who’d rather talk healthcare than hearts.” The grin slipped a little on Bucky’s face. “It’s weird to be alive; trust me, I know. We’ve both left better men than us dead on the battlefield while we got lucky. But it doesn’t mean we should stop living just because we think we shouldn’t be the ones alive.”

Steve met Bucky’s gaze with a similar searching intensity. He wondered again what Bucky may have brought back from the war. Steve tried to hold eye contact longer, chasing something he thought he had seen under the smile, but Bucky looked down and away from him. Bucky twisted the lid off the whiskey and held the bottle up to Steve.

“Drink.”

“Why?”

“Consider it a first step. And because I say so.” He held the bottle closer, hand brushing against Steve’s.

“Well, if my _Prince_ commands it...” It didn’t come out quite as sarcastically as Steve meant. He drank a long gulp, eyes locked on each other, Steve’s hand over Bucky’s on the bottle. Bucky pulled the bottle away slowly, watching Steve’s lips savor the last expensive drop. Bucky’s face gleamed like he had just won a bet.

“That’s right Steve, your Prince commands you. And right now I’m commanding you to have fun. The great hero deserves a night out on the town.”

“The ballet is tonight, I can’t-“

“Does it really look like Peggy is going to happily take your arm and bring you there as her date?” Steve looked downcast. “Cheer up Stevie, if you come with me I can take you somewhere a hell of a lot better than a ballet full of old people and old money.”

Bucky half-led and half-pushed Steve down the hall and towards what he knew was the smaller exit near the back gardens.

“Can we just leave the palace like this?”

“Haven’t you heard, Steve? There’s a royal ballet happening. Do you really think the guards will be paying attention to two people leaving, rather than the crowds that will be arriving for the reception?”

Steve dug in his heels until Bucky was forced to stop and face him. “But you’re not just anyone; you’re the Crown Prince.”

Something dark flashed across Bucky’s face. “Well then you’re lucky I’m the Prince. No one pays attention to me.”

Steve started to say something, but he lost his train of thought as Bucky leaned in closer and grasped both his shoulders.

“Steve, you gotta trust me. The car’s already waiting for us and the evening is just beginning.“ ~~~~

Steve tore his eyes away from Bucky’s eyelashes and suddenly noticed the unmarked black SUV idling in the driveway. “Where are we going?”

Bucky licked his lips and let his gaze roam across Steve’s body. He didn’t look back up until he was sure his intentions were clear. “We’re going to have _fun_.” Steve’s resulting blush felt like fuel to Bucky. He suddenly wanted to find out how low that pink went.

He smiled and knew that every ounce of it was genuine. He may be intent on destroying his city’s new pet, but - _by god-_ he was going to enjoy every second of it.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The car ride was almost unbearable. Steve kept glancing between the window and Bucky, both of them showing the unfamiliar. He hadn’t explored much of the outer city and he quickly stopped recognizing his surroundings after a few minutes. But Steve realized he knew even less about the man beside him. Of course there were the tabloids and social media, but Steve was never inclined to believe those. Bucky would wink at him when their eyes met over the kitchen table, or praise his heroic actions during interviews, but other than that he rarely spent time with Steve. Until now that is. Here he was, leg pressed against Bucky’s, trying to focus on anything but the persistent warmth beside him. Steve snuck a glance at his companion’s face and almost wished he hadn’t. Bucky was looking down at his phone, long eyelashes brushing his cheeks, and lips quirked in a playful smile. Steve turned back towards the window, keeping his breathing steady.

 

If he was honest with himself, Bucky was enjoying his new plan too much. His father hated him, wished Bucky was someone else, and never stopped reminding him that every breath he took was only due to Alexander’s kingly mercy. So of course the loyal soldier Steve, with golden hair and an earnest face, was everything he had wanted in a son. Someone to follow orders, someone the people would place on a pedestal, someone to mold to be a king in his image. A mini-Alexander. He soured at that image. Bucky was never going to be like his father, that magnificent bastard. They had both learned that long ago. But Bucky could corrupt Steve, he could blacken the heart of any trinket the King set his eyes on, until his son was the only person left standing. Then his father would be forced to accept Bucky as his heir. His eyes slid over to Steve sitting dutifully beside him, face still pointedly turned towards the window, and hands nervously bouncing in his lap. _He’ll be easy_ , Bucky thought, _he’s too soft_. And he already had more than enough signs that Steve would play happily along. He sent off one last text and pocketed his phone, knowing exactly how to begin the game.

“ _Hey._ ” he dropped a hand to Steve’s thigh, much too high to even pretend he was aiming for the knee. He gripped it a little, biting down a smile at Steve’s little gasp. “We’re here. You ready for this?”

Steve’s response was a little slow, as distracted as he was. “…Ready for what?”

Bucky popped open the car door, making a slow exit to allow Steve a good view of his ass. He reached back in to pull Steve out and laughed at his surprised face.

“There are a lot of people here.” Steve was glancing around at the sprawling mansion and yard full of partygoers that the SUV had parked near.

“And this is just the front yard. Wait ‘til you see the backyard and the pool.”

“But its practically winter.”

“It’s heated.”

Steve really shouldn’t have blushed at that. Bucky was describing the pool, not some sort of new sex move. But the way he said it... those lips made everything sound like sin.

“I _really_ need a drink.” Steve interrupted his own thoughts.

Bucky slung that now-familiar arm across his shoulders. “In we go then.”

He pulled Steve through the crowds, waving at people here and there, air kissing a girl or three, and filling Steve’s hands with shots of things he had stopped trying to figure out. By the time they made it to the backyard, he was feeling tipsy to the point where the idea of swimming naked was starting to sound appealing.

“Hold up there Steve, I can find you a suit if you really wanted to swim. No need to show off for the crowd. Some things are best left as a surprise.”

“Didn’t mean to say that out loud.” Steve knew he should feel embarrassed, but all he felt was warm. He grinned at Bucky. “I don’t really like surprises anyways.”

“Too bad, I think you’ll like this one.” He saw Bucky wave over his shoulder and Steve turned to look. His eyes widened.

“Monty? Jim?” He whirled around. “Frenchie, Jones, Dum Dum?” He couldn’t help but sling them all into a messy but well-intentioned bear hug. “Everyone’s here! But how? Aren’t you all still on duty?”

Frenchie inclined his head. “ _Le petit prince_ here has a few tricks up his sleeve.”

Steve pulled Bucky into a hug, lingering a few seconds longer than he should, acutely aware of how good Bucky smelled and how different this hug seemed compared to the ones he shared with his army buddies just moments before.

“I don’t how you did this, but Bucky-” He breathed the name, suddenly emotional. “Thank you. This means a lot, more than I can say.”

Bucky bit his bottom lip, looking temporarily at a loss for words. He shrugged it off “Crown Prince status has got to be useful for something, right?”

Dum Dum elbowed Steve out of his silent grin at Bucky. “There’s free drinks, hot girls, and we’ve got lots to catch up on. What has the little hero been doing in the big city without us?”

They prodded Steve towards the makeshift bar near the porch, full of the boisterous cheer of friends who were glad to see each other happy and whole. He sent Bucky an apologetic look and got a wink in return. Bucky would be fine; this was his usual territory after all.

 

And he _was_ determined to be fine. Bucky wandered the pool’s edge, a strong drink in hand, and tried to chat amiably with the people he knew. Unfortunately, that was only a handful. Oh, he recognized plenty of people and he was sure he’d recognize a lot more if their clothes were off, but he was still stuck in a crowd of people that either knew him and hated him, or thought they knew him and still hated him. His father may control the media, but even the most flattering light didn’t make him seem any less the royal spoiled brat. So he stopped trying. It was better to do what they wanted to see anyways; it would be harder to prove that they were wrong.

Bucky finished his drink in a messy gulp, chasing away whatever doubts he had about the plan. Steve was practically a single touch away from falling out of the King’s favor; it was almost too easy to seduce him. Bucky may not have been the stoic (or straight) heir his father wanted, but he knew how to use his God-given talents, even if his father hated him for the same gifts.

And gifts they were. He ran a slow hand through his dark hair, knowing it looked best when messy. Bucky kept walking around the pool as he glanced around nonchalantly, trying to find where Steve and his friends had wandered off. He caught a glance of himself in the glass of the porch windows and paused to unbutton more of his shirt. A little extra effort wouldn’t hurt in this game.

His dropped his hand quickly and he startled back. In the reflection Bucky had caught the eye of someone he had been hell-bent on avoiding. He tried to slip back into the crowd near the pool, hoping he’d be forgotten, but he heard his name being called. He stopped moving, resigning to face him head-on rather than having that fool shout loudly behind him across the whole backyard.

“Bucky! I was hoping you’d be here tonight.”

“Joseph.” He slipped on his most formal smile. “As you know, I’ve been really busy lately. Recovering from the whole being kidnapped thing.”

Joseph blanched. “Uh, yeah. Yeah I heard about that. The hero is here tonight too, isn’t he? Did he, uh, come with you?” Bucky wanted to vomit. He couldn’t stand that hint of oily jealousy creeping into Joseph’s voice.

“Yes, he came with me. I’m showing him the royal welcome. I’m sure you remember how that goes?”

There was no mistaking the hurt badly disguised on Joseph’s face. “What happened to us? I thought… we’ve been together for months. I loved you, _do_ love you.”

Bucky tried to quiet his rapid breathing. An awful burning sensation was rising in his throat and he grabbed the first drink he saw beside him to try to wash it down. _Memories_ he thought. _My memories taste like pain_.

“I can’t do this now.” He pushed Joseph aside, eyes searching again for that tall blond head in the crowd.

“You don’t answer my calls!” Bucky heard over his shoulder.

“You don’t take a hint.” He snapped back.

Bucky stalked back towards the bar, taking a deep breath with every step, hoping Steve would still be nearby. He heard him before he saw him. Enveloped in a circle of his old friends, Steve looked more vibrant than Bucky had ever seen before. His head was tossed back with easy laughter, his posture relaxed, and his hands unhesitatingly touching, poking, and teasing his companions. He looked so alive, Bucky’s mouth went dry. It was so easy to imagine ruining the hero, the image plastered on the posters and the newspapers, the man his father would be happy to call ‘ _son’_. It seemed more awful an act to ruin _Steve_ , the man before him with a sparkling laugh and kindness overflowing from in his heart.

He glanced at his phone to check the time and steeled himself for phase two of his plan. Bucky Barnes was not kind; that was a weakness and weaknesses were not tolerated. He ran a distracted hand through his hair, still thinking. _Kindness is a weakness. Apologies are a weakness. Love is a weakness. Barnes men are not weak._

 

“Bucky! Hey, over here!” One of Steve’s friends (Fadsworth? Fallswell? He didn’t remember) had seen him and was noisily trying to wave him over. Bucky grabbed a tray of shots from a server and plopped it down in front of the group.

“You boys ready for the next stop?”

Jim, who had been eyeing a flirtatious redhead all night, groaned. “Already? But I was just getting the courage to go ask-“

“The next place is a little better for getting girls, or guys, or whatever.” Bucky peeked at Steve, who was staring a little too straight ahead. “Real intimate place; good music, great drinks, extremely high chance of scoring.” He put a shot glass in everyone’s outstretched hands. “C’mon soldiers, you guys are only here for a weekend. Go ahead a get a little crazy. Everything’s on me.” Bucky held out his shot. “Onwards?”

They clinked glasses and knocked back their drinks. In the ruckus of getting up and finding their way back to the front hall (which proved difficult with all the alcohol already in their system), Bucky leaned into Steve’s side, pretending to guide his somewhat fumbled steps.

“Enjoying yourself?” He put every ounce of flirt into those short syllables.

“I am, weirdly enough.” Steve grinned brightly at him and Bucky struggled to keep his face from following suit.

“Not really your scene, huh?”

Steve shook his head. “No, but there’s someone -some things- that are making tonight pretty great.” He ducked his head, looking way more bashful than someone that tipsy had the right to appear. “I really appreciate this, Bucky. I can’t begin to explain how much this… How can I ever repay you?”

“Just have fun tonight. Do things you wouldn’t normally do; _live_.”

“But how does that help you?” He peered at Bucky, trying to force his hazy brain to make sense of those words.

“I’m just happy to see you happy.” Bucky’s jaw snapped shut. _Shit_. He had not meant to say that at all.

Steve’s pink flush was back again. “Oh. Well, then I- that’s good.”

He tried to backtrack. “I mean, you seemed so unhappy at the manor. Really quiet and-“ He gestured at the relaxed Steve in front of him. “Not like this.”

“That’s because I was sober.”

Bucky let out a laugh before he could stop himself.

“So that’s what it sounds like.”

Bucky froze. “...What?”

“That’s your real laugh. I like it.”

 _Oh_.

Tonight was going to be harder than Bucky originally thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos always appreciated :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for the chapter: self-destructive behavior, homophobic insults, fighting related violence.

“Welcome to ‘ _Sin’_.” Bucky couldn’t resist tossing a lascivious wink at Steve, who missed it as the flashing lights and noise distracted him. The music in the club was fast and thumping, leading their legs to the bar in no time. More shots were passed from hand to and Steve lost count three glasses back. His friends were laughing and dancing and finding beautiful girls more than happy to kiss the soldiers come home. Bucky’s chin rested on Steve’s shoulder as he sat watching all the grinders and movers. Steve was tipsy and loose, but still felt a tingling shudder run down his back as Bucky’s body pressed against his.

“You can’t dance, can you?”

Steve tilted his head back to speak, not wanting to break their flush contact. “I can totally dance.”

Bucky pressed closer, lips brushing Steve’s jaw as he spoke. “Yeah? Prove it.”

Steve couldn’t say no to a direct challenge. He pushed through the crowd getting closer to the DJ, where the people were pressed so tightly, grinding was the only dance move they could accomplish in the stifled air. Bucky hung back, happy to watch the show. Steve found a partner in no time: a red-lipped blonde who looked at home in this crush of dancers. She slotted herself between Steve’s thighs, skirt hitched up and eyes screaming sex. She moved against him like water, hands exploring and body grinding against Steve’s in well-practiced moves. Bucky couldn’t help but grin; Steve was trying to keep up, but his hips were out of tempo and his hands unsure. He needed an intervention, or perhaps a more suitable partner. ~~~~

Steve felt a warm hand slide across his shoulder blades. Bucky was right behind him.

“You’re doing it wrong. Try this.”

Bucky placed his hands on Steve’s hips, trying to move them to the dance beat, but only succeeded in making them both laugh. Steve wasn’t quite getting the hang of it.

The blonde raised a playful eyebrow and waggled a finger at Bucky. “You looking to join in? I can make room in the middle.”

He cocked his head to side with a grin. He’s heard this before. “Tempting proposition dear, but I think the Captain just needs a better dance partner.”

She gasped in fake offense, playing it up.

“More suitable, more- ah fuck, you know what I mean.”

She kissed Bucky on each cheek as she pulled away from Steve’s awkward embrace. “That’s two you owe me now, Bucky-boy.”

“You’re a goddess, thank you.” He gestured over to another corner of the dance floor. “There’s a few other soldiers looking for-“

But she was already off, a joyful twist to her lips and a sparkle in her eyes for her next victim.

“So… You and her?” Steve felt his face warming. It was the alcohol, or the dense heat of bodies, or the alcohol….

Bucky made a sort of choked laughing noise. “Me and Maggie? No, we’re just friends. You jealous?”

Steve shook his head with a little too much emphasis. “Just curious. Haven’t met too many of your friends.”

“Ah well, there’s not too many to meet.” He winked at Steve. “Hard when being a Prince and all.” He cast a glance around and leaned forward. “Actually, can I tell you a secret?”

He was taken aback at Bucky’s sudden serious tone. “Of course.”

Bucky stepped closer, _too close_ , their chests were practically flush and his lips were brushing against Steve’s ear with every word. “ _I_ was feeling jealous. I want to be the one to dance with you, not Maggie”

 _Shit._ Steve couldn’t stop the little hitch in his breath and he was sure Bucky heard it at this close range. The smile that bloomed across Bucky’s lips was confirmation.

“You want that, huh?”

There was no playing it cool anymore. “I’d rather _you_ be the one to teach me. I know you better.”

“My pleasure.” Bucky grabbed Steve’s hands in his. “Though I’m surprised you need it at all. I saw you at the military ball.”

“That was formal dancing though, we all had to learn that.” Despite the vodka fog in his brain, Steve tried to file that away for later. _Bucky had noticed him before._

“You were good though, graceful.” Bucky placed Steve’s hands firmly on his lower waist and held them in place. “All dancing is just rhythm. I know you can feel the beat.”

The music was reverberating through everyone on the dance floor, their bodies conduits for the thumping bass. “Yeah, kind of hard not to.”

Bucky’s hips were moving now, a languid left and right, keeping in time to the music. “Just follow the music and copy me.”

Steve had already been absentmindedly moving to the beat, as forceful as it was around him. With Bucky swaying beneath his hands, he tried to copy the effort, but it just felt so stilted. “The beat isn’t my problem.”

“Hmm?” It was too loud, Bucky hadn’t heard him.

Steve pulled Bucky closer, it was so easy with his hand on his hips already. “I said the beat isn’t my problem.”

“Oh, I know.” Bucky’s hands snaked up Steve’s chest, one hand resting above his rattling heartbeat and the other wrapping across his shoulder. “It’s the connection part, right? In formal dancing every hand has it’s a place. But this…“

Steve knew his heart was pounding embarrassingly loud but he leaned closer anyways, trying to turn off his brain and let his body relax against Bucky’s. It was so effortless how they fit together, Bucky’s thighs rubbing against his own, that hand on his neck pulling Steve down as he pulled Bucky in tighter. There was no room left between them. Steve was breathing in Bucky’s exhale and he could swear he was getting lightheaded from the heat of the exchange. _God_ —it felt so good Steve never wanted it to end. It was so different than Maggie, so different than any other partner before. Because it was _Bucky_. He was drunk on a workday, grinding with a royal in a nightclub, because _Bucky_ had asked for Steve to follow. And he had.   
Steve wondered what else Bucky might ask, what he would so willingly say yes to. His thoughts got sidetracked, thinking about the warm skin under his hands, just one cloth layer away, how those hips that were swaying against his might look naked… 

The song had changed but the beat was the same. He rolled his hips forward against Bucky this time and was rewarded with a throaty moan. Bucky’s eyes shot open in a brief second of surprise. It seemed Steve hadn’t been the only one whose thoughts had trailed away from the present moment. Bucky licked his lips – from the heat? in flirtation?- and that was all the invitation Steve needed. The dance floor was only lit with neon flashes and everyone was anonymous in this haze and sweat. Steve didn’t care if anyone did see them; his focus was on the man pressed against him. He rolled his hips against Bucky again, slower and deliberately. With Bucky pressed up against him like this, he was grinding against his thigh with each hip roll, his erection starting to grow against his pants. He could feel Bucky too, canting his hips forward, grinding his own cock against Steve to the bass beat.

“Steve, _fuck_ -“ Bucky mouthed at Steve’s neck, trailing his lips down that perfect jaw to meet messily on his lips. It was uncontrollable need and want flowing through Bucky. He was trying to catch his breath with Steve’s own. He had thought Steve was new at this, but _god_ he was a quick study. Bucky was half-rutting in his lap now, both of their cocks growing harder against each other. Trying to get the upper hand again, he tugged Steve back by the hair, lightly biting and kissing down his throat. His other hand ran his fingers along Steve’s bare stomach under his shirt. Bucky loved how Steve was squirming beneath him, gasping at the sudden warm touch.

“Bucky, I want-“ He stopped himself. _What was he thinking?_

“Go ahead, ask me.” Steve just kissed him with determination, occupying their mouths with something other than words. Bucky couldn’t help but melt open-mouthed and pliable against Steve’s heat.

After a few minutes, he pushed back from Steve and almost as quickly regretted it. Steve looked flushed, his lips wet and plush from their kissing. Bucky wanted more. “Tell me.”

“No, it’s-"

“Pretend I’m not James Barnes, okay? I’m not the prince.” He leaned in again, nothing but a hot whisper against Steve’s ear. “Tell me.”

“I _want_ you.” It came rushing out on an exhale. “I want you so bad, right now, but I just- we shouldn’t-“

Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand and started hauling him through the crowd. It was dense and packed with bodies, but he hurried through, not wanting to wait another second. The crowd thinned out and Bucky turned them down a dark hallway, ignoring the looks on a few people’s faces as he went barreling down with Steve in tow.

He was pulled back suddenly, Steve’s hands holding him against his body, an already hard cock pressing against Bucky’s ass. “I have a right to know where we’re going this time.” There was lilt to Steve’s words and Bucky could tell his was smiling. “I’m a participant, not a hostage.”

“Mmm, now that’s an interesting mental image.” Bucky swiveled his hips a little and felt Steve’s breath gasp against his neck. “Ropes, blindfold, ball gag….”

“ _Bucky_.”

“We’re going to the restroom.”

“Because?” Steve relaxed his grip and Bucky turned to face him with a wicked grin.

“ _Oh_.” Steve grinned back. “Fuck yes.”

Bucky laughed. “Aren’t you supposed to be a virgin?”

It was Steve’s turn to whisper heatedly against Bucky’s neck. “Just ‘cause it was printed in a magazine doesn’t mean it’s the slightest bit true.”

 

A little breathless, Bucky whirled them through a doorway, slamming Steve hard against the shut door. Steve heard the door lock clink and then lost all of his thoughts.

Bucky had sunk so quickly to his knees; it was like he wanted to be there all along. His hands were flying to unbuckle Steve’s belt, to open his fly. He tugged at Steve’s pants taking the boxers down with them as well. Warm palms traced paths up and back down Steve’s thighs, filthy promises held in every touch and grip. Steve started to feel self-conscious in the moment’s silence, cock bobbing in front of Bucky’s face, a man who probably had infinitely more experience. ~~~~

“God, you’re beautiful.” Bucky’s eyes were half-closed, focused on Steve’s flushed cock like there was nothing else in the room. “Can’t wait to feel that in me, to fuck myself on that, already so hard and wet for me.” He breathed hot against his cock, making a moan that made Steve’s breathing speed up.

“N-now?”

Bucky laughed, and rested a reassuring hand on Steve’s hip. “All in good time, Rogers. Let’s save some for round two.”

Before Steve could get clarification on when this round two would be, Bucky’s tongue was swiping up the length of his cock, sizing him up, and enjoying every new taste in his mouth. Steve didn’t know where or what to do with his hands as Bucky’s own slid behind Steve and squeezed his ass. And then those pink lips were stretched around his cock, taking him down farther than he thought was possible, and he couldn’t help but thrust forward into that plush warmth. He heard Bucky make a choking sound and he tried to pull back, but Bucky’s hands stopped him. He placed Steve’s hands at the back of his neck, leaning against the grip, wordless telling Steve to hold him there. To thrust hard and long. Bucky’s eyes, dark and half-lidded, told him that he could take it all.

Steve almost came from that alone.

He started up a rhythm, fucking Bucky’s mouth in time with each knead of the hands on his ass. Bucky just hollowed out his mouth, making it wet and tight, happily taking everything Steve gave.

Bucky closed his eyes, loudly moaning and humming against Steve’s weight in his mouth. He wanted Steve to know how good it felt being used like this. Just a fucking vessel for Steve’s pleasure. He wanted to ruin Steve for anyone else, to show him just how good he could be, to make Steve never be able to cum again without thinking of Bucky’s mouth on his cock. He relaxed further, letting Steve’s cock drive deep in his throat, over and over. He slipped his fingers between Steve’s cheeks, pressing against the tight ring of his hole, and finally got those out-of-control groans and erratic thrusts he had wanted to hear so badly. Bucky kept his fingers there, lightly exploring, and just let his mouth be fucked like that was its only purpose. He felt his own cock pressing hard against the too-tight space of his jeans and his hand drifted down to do something about it. Bucky gasped against Steve’s cock in his mouth as his erection was freed, starting to stroke himself in time to the thrusts down his throat, letting the sensations rock through his whole body.

“Buck- Bucky.” He glanced up at Steve, who looked so lost and flushed as his orgasm got closer and closer. “Soon, so soon, I’m gonna-“ He spluttered.

Without taking his hand off his own leaking cock, Bucky nudged one of Steve’s legs to spread further apart. The new angle fucked him down harder onto Bucky’s teasing fingers. Steve groaned at the sensation, gripping Bucky’s hair tighter as he rode those fingers with increasing speed and pleasure. With a sudden moan of Bucky’s name, he came loudly down his throat. Bucky moved his hands quickly to Steve’s hips, keeping him constrained as he bucked erratically into his waiting and wanting mouth. He tried to catch it all, but it was so much and so messy that he could feel the cum spill down his chin. Steve’s hand tugged just short of painful in his hair, holding him there, using him.

“Your fucking mouth,” Steve was practically unintelligible between gasps. “Those pink fucking lips- _god_ , Bucky you just- you took it all, you fucking good boy, you love this don’t you?” Bucky pumped his own cock with each of those words, sucking the last bit from Steve as he felt his own orgasm start up hot and sharp in his abdomen.

“You’re so good, so _good_ for me.”

Bucky came with a shout, the cock in his mouth stifling him, and then fell back suddenly on his heels, breathing heavy. Steve hauled him to his feet, wanting to kiss those stretched red lips, to taste himself in Bucky’s mouth. Their limbs tangled together, crashing loudly against the door, but they were far beyond caring about any noises being overheard. Steve slid a hand between them, hesitating as he reached Bucky’s fly.

“ _Oh_.” He breathed out, surprised. He felt a chuckle rumble against his chest.

“You’re so fucking sexy, coming down my throat like that, all wild and loud. I couldn’t help myself.”

Steve bit at Bucky’s lips, hands pulling their hips crashing back together. He tried to speak all the words he wanted with his tongue; tried to kiss every praise he wanted Bucky to know against his mouth. Bucky was trying to respond, trying to nip Steve’s jaw in the way he now knew he liked, but he felt too hazy and slow. He was thoroughly sated in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. _And it was only your hand,_ Bucky laughed at himself. _Sounds like I’m going to have to up the ante if I want to_ \- His humor stuck drily in his throat. The plan suddenly felt rusted and broken; Bucky’s heart was hammering relentlessly and was now refusing to go quietly along. _Barnes men don’t love._ He repeated those well-beaten words. _Barnes men aren’t weak._

Bucky pushed back from Steve, propping himself up by his elbows on the door to look at the man pinned beneath him. Blond hair was sticking out left and right; his shirt crumpled and pants lost down by his ankles. There was a smudge of Steve’s own cum by the side of his mouth where it had transferred from Bucky. He couldn’t help himself; he sucked on Steve’s already swollen bottom lip making him gasp from the over-sensitivity.

“So gorgeous.”

“Mmm, not so bad yourself.”

“You’re a punk, you know that?”

“Jerk.” Steve’s hands had reacquainted themselves with Bucky’s neck, trying to reel him back in to meet his lips. He dodged out of Steve’s grip and caught a glance of himself in the mirror.

“Ha, _fuck_. There’s no way to cover this at all.” He ran a light hand across the hickeys all along his jaw and neck. He grinned at Steve over his shoulder. “Nothing we can do about it now; let’s just show it off and make ‘em jealous.”

Bucky tucked himself back in, wiping his pants clean with a paper towel the best he could. He could hear the sound of a zipper behind him. Bucky didn’t even bother fixing his shirt; it was wrinkled beyond recognition. Steve surprised him with arms wrapped around his waist, smirking at him in the mirror.

“This has been a great night.”

Bucky laughed and pulled the arms off his hips. “It’s barely started.” Without even realizing, Steve had given him an idea on how to keep the plan moving. “But first, more drinks.”

“Let me pay this time.”

Bucky reached past Steve and unlocked the door. “You’re a true gentleman Steve, but I wield access to the royal treasury. And anyways-“ He opened the door, pulling Steve forward against him. “You can pay me back later with something better than money.” Despite the jeers of the annoyed people in line for the bathroom, Bucky gave Steve a lingering open-mouth kiss before pushing him into the crowded hallway. He led the way back through the main room, Steve’s hand in his, elbowing people aside until they were at the bar.

“Stay here; I’ll grab some bottles to-go.”

“They’ll let you take ‘em out of here?”

“Crown prince, baby. They’ll let me do anything.”

 

With his mind still happily post-orgasmic, Steve giggled and slapped Bucky’s ass as he walked away. Steve felt so lucky. He never even dreamed he’d have someone like the Prince in his arms, making sounds like Steve was everything he needed to live. His dopamine-drunk mind had zero thoughts left for anyone who brushed him off in the past. He grew up working twice as hard, trying to support himself and his sickly mother, and never had time for dating. Not that he hadn’t tried. There was the cute girl at table four who came in every Sunday night at the diner he worked at. He was stick-skinny back then, nothing but awkward angles and too-long limbs. She took one look at him and laughed. Then there was the quiet blonde in his art class. He stuttered his words so hard, he was surprised she understood him enough to reject his offer to take her to homecoming. The boy at the library, he hadn’t even tried to talk to. He was more stunning than anyone Steve had seen before, but this was a small town and people talked. In some ways, he was lucky the army found him around the same time his mother died. His restless mind latched onto the distraction and he threw his whole self into training. Steve bulked up fast after that, finally getting that growth spurt he was denied all through high school. He got his first (and second) kiss around that time too. He rubbed a hand across his face, thoughts drifting back to Bucky. _Nothing like this_ _though,_ he thought, dopey smile crossing his face unconsciously. Never anyone as good as Bucky. Just thinking about those lips made a heat grow in the pit of Steve’s stomach again; but Bucky’s laugh was what really made his heart squeeze tight and his breath catch in his throat. His laugh, when it was real, was music.

Steve was rapidly starting to realize he’d do anything to get Bucky to laugh again.

 

 

Bucky was having trouble making his way back to Steve in the crowd. With a few winks and promises, Bucky had walked away with an unopened bottle of top shelf vodka, but a wink couldn’t part the horde of patrons blocking his way. Word must have gotten out that the “Party Prince” and his entourage were at this particular club. With every step he took forward he got mobbed by girls with slick lips and boys wanting quickies. Bucky had no patience to play along tonight; his prize was already waiting for him, sitting at a stool by the end of the bar. But the mob kept surging toward him, flashing fake smiles and camera phones in his face, everyone wanting a piece of the royal mess. He ducked his head and tried to barrel through. Bucky already learned his lesson years ago; there’s no end to what people will do to get close to you. They acted like it would rub off and suddenly make them less obscure for having touched the prince. It’s like they thought he was something other than human: a trophy to mock or admire. Steve was coming into sight and Bucky could feel the vise on his lungs loosen a bit. He just needed to grab him and get the hell out of here.

Bucky heard his name being called out across the crowd and he almost threw his vodka at the sound.

“No, Bucky, don’t you walk away this time.” A hand at his shoulder tugged him back.

“Fuck you.” He muttered but didn’t turn around.

“It’s too loud, what did you-“

“Fuck you Joseph! Why the fuck did you follow me?”

He didn’t look hurt by Bucky’s words. He looked deep into an alcohol stupor, his words slurred and his movements reckless. Joseph reached to cup his jaw and Bucky slapped his hand away.

“I did- I didn’t follow you.” He grabbed at his shirtfront, tugging Bucky closer. “Just listen to me.”

“No, just _shut up_. It can’t be what it was. We’re over; we’ve been over for a while.”

“I don’t understand, what did I do?” The self-pity made Bucky turn his head away with a scowl. He didn’t have to listen to this.

“Stay away from me.”

“But I love you.”

Bucky spun on his heels, grabbing Joseph’s collar with a choke-hold grip. He glowered down at him and heard his father’s words reverberate in his head.

“You can’t. Don’t you understand anything, you filthy slut? You’re just a piece of worthless shit.”

“B-bucky, I don’t - what are you saying?”

“You’re shit. No one will love you; no one will _ever_ love you. ” Bucky couldn’t stop the outpour. The words weren’t his but they had been pounded into him so often they felt tattooed to his bones. His voice repeated them on automatic. “You sicken me, with your deplorable boys and disgusting acts. It isn’t love: it’s trash. You’re _trash_.” Joseph was shaking, fear cutting through the alcohol, hands trying to pull Bucky off. The crowd was starting to notice; his voice wasn’t loud but the blank stare on Bucky’s face seemed to send a chill through the air. Someone started tugging his arm, trying to make him let go of Joseph’s throat. Hands were on him, pushing and pulling, and Bucky wasn’t even aware.

“Don’t ever fucking love me again.” He spit the words into Joseph’s face and dropped him suddenly. Bucky stumbled back against the crowd, eyes to the ground, willing his feet to take him to where he was supposed to go. He couldn’t remember. He thought he was going somewhere good, but now the words he spat tore razor sharp in his thoughts like a broken mirror. Reflecting something twisted. _What had he just done?_

“Hey Bucky?” The voice was hesitant but warm.

His eyes took a moment to focus. “Steve.” He held out the vodka weakly, having never dropped it from his dead man’s grip while dealing with Joseph.

“You’re shaking! What happened, why are you-“

Bucky held up a wavering hand. “Gimme a sec, I gotta do something.“ He needed to feel. He needed something hard and brutal to knock that cycle of words out of his head. Bucky couldn’t look Steve in the eye with those truths bleeding out between his edges, making him weak. _Love is a weakness._

He took a few steps then swung to his side, throwing his body weight against the biggest, drunkest looking asshole he could see.

“Jesus _FUCK_! What was that for, you fucking piece of-“ Bucky swung his fist up before the man could finish. He was quick to bounce back, shoving Bucky away and kneeing him hard in the gut. Steve rushed to his side, torn between wanting to check if Bucky was okay or kicking that asshole into next week. He could see Bucky staggering to get up, fight still blazing in his eyes, and Steve grabbed his arms to pull him back.

“Don’t touch me! Get away, let me do this.” He struggled out of Steve’s grip. “I need to do this!”

The man, now with an angry welt blooming across his jaw, grabbed Bucky and shoved him hard the bar countertop, the intent to bash him written clearly in the deep line of his scowl. Bucky pulled at the fingers on his throat, but didn’t try to run or kick.

“Just hit me!” He kept screaming. “Coward!”

Steve shoved hard at the man’s waist, trying to knock him away from Bucky.

“Just fucking hit me! Just hit me already… hit me. Hit…”

Bucky’s voice was fading and a chill ran through Steve. He grabbed a handful of the man’s hair and yanked back forcefully until Bucky’s throat was freed. The man turned on Steve, but Steve was ready for him. He elbowed him hard in the neck, sending the man reeling back coughing. While he was still distracted, Steve kicked out and knocked the man back against the bar where he crumpled to the floor. Steve needed to get Bucky the hell out of there _now_. He slid an arm around Bucky’s waist, propping him against Steve’s side, and helped him towards the door. The crowd thankfully stepped mostly aside as Steve passed, but they were the least of his worries. He had no idea where to go now.

“Black town car at the corner. No license plate.” Bucky was barely audible, even this close to Steve’s ear. He hauled Bucky towards the car as fast as he could with the added deadweight.

“We need to go to the hospital.”

“ _No_. Fuck that. We’re going to my place.” Unstable hands pushed at Steve, trying to stand on his own.

“What the hell Bucky, you’re not-“

“I’m okay! I’m telling you I’m okay.” The red handprint forming on his neck didn’t look like that to Steve, but Bucky cut him off before he could protest. “We’re going to my place. I have ice and medicine there. Are you with me or not?”

He didn’t know what to say, so he spoke the truth he felt in that moment. “I’m with you until the end of the line, Bucky.”

“Well-“ Bucky fumbled at the door handle, keeping his face turned. “Me too, Steve.” He yanked the door open and slid in the car. Steve followed him, trying to surreptitiously look over Bucky’s bruises and wounds. He saw Bucky’s hand snap out and Steve leaned back, thinking it was going to shoo him away. But Bucky just took Steve’s hand in his own, still leaning heavily against the window, and held it tightly for the entirety of the car ride. Steve had the overwhelming sense that something very important had just happened but he didn’t know what words to offer. So he held his hand in silence, offering Bucky comfort the only way he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always deeply appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

Bucky spent a minute fumbling with the keys to his apartment. Steve reached out to help but Bucky waved him off with a winning smile. There was no way he wasn’t in pain, not with those punches, but Steve kept his mouth shut for now.

The apartment wasn’t what Steve was expecting. The outside was brick like all the buildings beside it, tall and anonymous, but the inside was clearly lived in. Layers of jackets and sweaters were strewn across the couch, a tower of mugs leaned by the sink, a stack of books took over the only lounge chair. A single person lived here, unbothered and alone. It was smaller than what he pictured a Prince would want but it seemed like a real home compared to the palace.

Bucky made a beeline to the fridge and pulled a vegetable bag from the freezer. He held it across his ribs as he grinned up at Steve. “It’s messy but I’m not going to apologize. It’s messy and it’s mine. This is probably the only thing I have that isn’t controlled by my father.”

There was a wink in Bucky’s eyes and Steve read between the lines. “He doesn’t know you have this place, does he?”

“Nope, and it took months to set up that way. Bless my sister for being a whiz at paperwork, because without her I wouldn’t be able to hide the rent in the discretionary funds.” Something chilly crossed his gaze. “It’s a secret.”

“And I’ll keep it that way.”

The edges of Bucky’s mouth leapt back up into a smile. “C’mere” He leaned against the kitchen island, far too relaxed for a man with an ice pack held to his body.

Steve walked forward anyways. Once closer in reach, Bucky pulled him in by his waistband until their thighs were just brushing each other. Steve was still feeling a little loose and careless, all the night’s alcohol heating his system. Without thinking they were kissing again, mouths hot against each other, hands roaming recklessly. Steve’s hand halted when it met Bucky’s over the frozen vegetables.

He pulled back. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Bucky just yanked him back in. “Ten out of ten doctors recommend kissing as a great distraction.”

His lips were on Steve’s again, soft but pushy, sucking against Steve’s bottom lip for just a moment before flicking his tongue onward. The hand not on the cold pack had quickly found its way under Steve’s shirt, fingers tracing paths across his skin that were making Steve shiver. There was a heated desperation to everything Bucky was doing; he kissed like he was afraid of running out of time.

“I don’t know how this is helping you.” Steve panted, trying to catch his breath.

“Trust me, this is helping a lot.” Bucky abandoned the frozen veg to the side, both his hands sneaking back under Steve’s shirt, running his fingers along where Steve’s skin met his waistband. He could feel the muscles tense under his cold touch. Steve looked down at Bucky flushing, but still incredulous. Bucky grinned up at him. “ _This_ is what makes me feel better.”

Steve pressed forward, giving as much as he got. He lifted Bucky by the waist and he wrapped his legs around Steve’s hips eagerly.

“Does this make you feel better?” He rolled his hips slowly against Bucky, drawing it out and making him groan. Steve kept grinding against him, working up a heated rhythm between them. His mouth hovered just above Bucky’s, lips ghosting across his and inhaling every noise he made. “How about this?”

Bucky was pinned between the counter and Steve, the friction intensifying. He couldn’t help but take a gasping breath between kisses, his head thrown back. Steve took advantage, biting lightly down his neck, sending kisses across his jaw in their wake. ~~~~

Bucky cupped Steve’s cheek to tilt him back a few inches and interrupt him.

“Down the hall, second door on the left.”

“What-?” Comprehension sparked in Steve’s eyes. “Okay. _Yes_.” Without a warning Steve wrapped his arms securely under Bucky’s legs and started walking.

He laughed against Steve’s collarbone. “Oh my god, I knew you were strong but wow-“

“Army strong, baby.” And Steve gave him an honest to god wink.

After a little struggle with the door, Steve had effectively carried Bucky across the apartment and into his bedroom. With more care than he was used to, Bucky was released onto the edge of his bed. Steve was still standing, bracketed between Bucky’s knees, not sure of what to do next. His limbs felt too long, his skin too hot.

“Captain.”

Steve’s head snapped up to meet Bucky’s eyes. There was a promising twinkle to them. “Take off your shirt, Captain.”

His fingers were on his buttons without even thinking. “Don’t I outrank you?”

“Well, as your _Crown_ _Prince_ ”.

“Hmm, unfair.” Steve tossed the shirt aside and reached toward Bucky’s.

He raised a hand to block Steve. “I’m giving the orders now. You like that, right?”

Steve saw honesty as the best play here. “From you, _yes_.”

“Good. Now lose the pants.”

They were quickly added to the shirt on the floor. He leaned back a moment, watching as Bucky’s gaze sweep his body and a little thrill ran down his spine. There was something so hungry in Bucky’s eyes.

“You like what you see?”

“Not sure Captain, maybe you can give me a twirl?”

Bucky was still fully clothed which was feeling more and more unacceptable. In a swift movement he pushed Bucky down onto the mattress, leaning fully over him.

“My turn to give orders.”

With a proprietary hand on Bucky’s chest, he trailed the other down to his pants, lingering at the line of soft hairs that disappeared below the waistband.

“Just take ‘em off.” Bucky sounded a little breathless already.

Steve hummed noncommittally. He pushed Bucky’s shirt hem up a little, thumbing at sharp V of his hipbone on his way to unzip his fly. Bucky lifted his hips for Steve and his pants joined the floor. It was Steve’s turn to look. Those black boxers did nothing to hide his growing erection and Bucky knew it.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Cap.”

Steve didn’t need to look up to hear the grin on Bucky’s face. He decided to pay some attention to Bucky’s thighs instead. He leaned down to kiss them, marking a trail across his inner thigh reaching higher and higher. Bucky spread his legs open automatically, gasping quietly.

“You like that?” Steve was higher now, breathing hot against Bucky’s erection. “How about this?” He teased him through the soft fabric of his boxers, palming his cock in time with each kiss along his thigh.

Despite his panting, Bucky still bit off a sassy remark. “Do you do everything this slow? How’d a turtle like you ever-“ his reply was cut off as Steve’s mouth went down on him, hot and wet even through the fabric.

“ _God_ , more of that. Steve, fuck, give me-“

Steve pushed Bucky’s boxers down swiftly, thumbing across the head of his cock. “More like this?” His tongue was on his head, exploring and insistent.

Bucky couldn’t help but thrust his hips up, wanting more of Steve’s mouth on him.

Steve’s hands held Bucky’s hips down, his mouth sinking back on him in velvety heat. Bucky was losing his mind. Every suck and tease felt a thousand times more intense at this speed, like Steve wanted to memorize every tiny moment.

“I want-“ He was barely forming words between moans. “I want to see you.” He propped himself up on his elbows, catching Steve’s eyes. ”Up here with me Steve.”

He obliged, crawling up Bucky with a grin, his knees landing on either side of Bucky’s thighs. “You’re right, the view is better up here.” He leaned down to kiss Bucky, the taste of salt and precum still on his lips. Bucky reached down between them, sliding a hand to down Steve’s already hard cock, enjoying the moan he got in return. Steve ran a rough hand through Bucky’s hair, angling him back to kiss his jaw and neck, turning his moans into kisses against Bucky’s skin. Bucky didn’t want to drag this out any longer. He crooked a leg over Steve, canting his hips up to roll hard and heatedly against Steve’s cock, wanting it _intense_ and _now_. Bucky groaned at the contact and at the sharp pain in his ribs. He ignored it.

Steve leaned his weight fully against him now, pinning Bucky’s wrists above his head, grinding his hips against Bucky’s. He shifted position under Steve, trying to stay comfortable, but couldn’t suppress a sharp gasp.

“You good?”

“Yeah, mmm.” Bucky was moaning. “So good, keep doing that.”

Another roll of his hips against Bucky, and Bucky’s hands jerked in his grip. Steve leaned back, a frown forming. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Bucky’s hands involuntary reached for his stomach before quickly moving to the side, feigning a neutral pose. The wince was still on his face.

Before Bucky could stop him, Steve lifted his shirt. A smudge of bruised red skin was visible even in the low light.

“If you’re in pain I don’t want to-“

“I’m used to it, I’m _okay_. Don’t stop just because-“

“Bucky…” Steve began, the worry tangible in his voice.

Something flashed across Bucky’s face before it was quickly shut off. “Fine.” He propped a knee up under Steve, pushing him off. Bucky rolled to his side, determinedly facing away.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, beside each other but not touching. Steve looked at the back of Bucky’s head in the dim light, the solitary bedside lamp spinning little flecks of gold in his hair.

“We have time.” His voice was low, words spoken between breaths. “All the time in the world.”

Bucky’s shoulders started shaking and Steve reached out, twice as worried now.

 

When Steve grabbed his shoulder, Bucky turned to face him. He was laughing. “ _All the time in the world_. Steve, you are the corniest man I’ve ever met. Who actually says stuff like that?” Bucky wasn’t going to admit that with those words he felt his entire world flip, not just his stomach.

“You’re a jerk.” Steve was relieved enough to feel slightly insulted. “I’d punch you but I think you already feel pretty bad.”

Bucky eyed him for a minute, and then something in him seemed to give way. “Fine, have it your way. Scoot closer.”

He cupped Steve’s neck and pulled him in for a soft kiss, just their lips touching. “Baby steps. See, this is fine”

Steve responded as gently as he could, keeping a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, but not pressing for more.

Bucky leaned closer, shifting his weight forward, and then Steve could feel Bucky’s wince on his lips more than hear it.

“And I’m done.” He flopped heavily back on the bed. “I’d offer to cuddle but honestly I need to be flat for a while.”

“Should I get the peas?”

“No, shut up.” Bucky was laughing again. “Stop being so nice.”

“Oh they’re not for you, I’m starving. I had a liquid dinner all night.”

Bucky shot him a friendly glare. “Punk.”

“Jerk.” Steve smiled back.

 

He didn't know who yawned first, but soon the only light was off and Steve’s eyes were barely staying open.

Steve inched in closer, leaning on his side to watch Bucky fall asleep. He wondered what he was dreaming about, with that slight frown on his face. Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s chest, watching it travel up and down with each breath, careful not to lean too much weight into his limb.

Bucky was here with him, breathing, alive, and _here_.

 

Steve felt like had already fallen into a dream.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all the nice commenters so far. You all keep me going <3
> 
> Thanks for reading! More chapters coming soon...

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are mega appreciated. Thank you for reading!


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